Merlin's Freaky Friday
by ErinnMellas
Summary: When Merlin wakes up as Arthur, and Arthur wakes up as Merlin, obviously conflicts arise. Arthur must be his own servant for a day, and Merlin has to be a prince. No one can know about this disaster. The question remains: will they be like this forever?
1. Wakeup Call

Merlin woke up that morning feeling very strange. He didn't feel the normal pangs of hunger he usually felt in the morning that coaxed him out of bed. In fact, Merlin felt quite content with simply going back to sleep. However, not wanting to be lazy, the young warlock got up out of bed and froze. This was not his room. Merlin looked around. He was sitting on a giant four-poster bed with crimson sheets. A finely polished sword lay against the wall in an expertly crafted leather sheath. This was definitely not the tiny room of Merlin's. This was Arthur's chambers.

Merlin got up and went to the wash basin to splash some cold water on his face. He looked into the mirror and flinched backwards. His reflection was not in the mirror. Well, it was, but it wasn't his own reflection. As Merlin peered into the silver glass, Arthur's face stared back at him with the same bewildered expression. Merlin splashed water on his face and looked again. Nope, still Arthur's reflection.

At that moment, a yelp sliced through the morning air. Heavy footsteps were heard thumping down steps. All of a sudden, someone burst into the chambers. Merlin did a double take. He just burst into the chambers he was already in. Either this was a really crazy dream, or something peculiar was going on.

"MERLIN!" yelled his own voice, but Merlin would never miss the rage that was constantly in Arthur's words.

Merlin, er, Arthur was staring at his hands. He looked at Merlin standing by the mirror. He clambered over to him, shoved him aside and peered into the mirror.

"NO!" Arthur exclaimed, "What the bloody hell's happened? I'm not supposed to look like this! I'm supposed to be handsome!" His voice sounded slightly maniacal, which almost scared Merlin.

"Uh, Arthur?" he asked cautiously, ignoring the insult.

Arthur turned around and looked at him. Merlin was beginning to question his own sanity, for he was looking at himself as if he were someone else. That didn't even make sense in his mind. Then it clicked.

"You're in my body!" Arthur said before Merlin. "And I'm in yours… Ah! That's disgusting! I'm in a filthy peasant's body!"

"Well, I'm not exactly ecstatic about this, either!" Merlin retorted. He rubbed his cheek. "Don't you ever shave?"

Arthur glared at him. It was a lot different being glared at from his own eyes, Merlin thought, but still intimidating. "Fix this," Arthur stated. "Now."

Merlin gaped. "How do you expect me to do that? I dunno how this even happened, let alone how to change it back!"

Arthur stared him down. He picked up his sword. Er, attempted would be a better word. Once the blade was unsheathed, Arthur buckled over and fell to the ground. "Good Lord, _Mer_lin! You have less muscle than a rat, do you know that?"

"Well, yes, actually…" Merlin replied quietly. "But that doesn't matter right now. We need to find out how to fix this. Come on, let's go get help from Gaius."

Merlin started towards the door, but Arthur stopped him. "No way, Merlin. _No one_ will find out about this. Besides, who would believe you? Anyone you tell will think you've gone off your rocker! We'll just figure this out ourselves, and—" Arthur stopped.

"And…?" Merlin asked.

"Oh, no…" Arthur said, burying his face in his hands.

"What?" Merlin inquired urgently.

Arthur shook his head. "I have a meeting with the knights today. My father will be attending, of course." He threw a glance at Merlin. "If I miss it, Father would notice and be on my case the rest of the week." He gave Merlin the death stare and advanced towards him. "If you mess this up… You aren't going to want you body back, understood?"

Merlin nodded looking like a scared puppy. "O-okay. I don't have much to do besides do rounds for Gaius and all the chores you make me do."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great…" he mumbled under his breath.

"Yeah, have fun with that, _Merlin_!" Merlin said with a smile. Before Arthur could retort, he walked out of the chambers and into the hallways.


	2. Out of the Bag

Arthur watched helplessly as his servant walked away in the prince's body. This was going to end up as an absolute disaster, no doubt about it. There was no way in hell that Merlin, a peasant servant, would be able to go through that meeting with the knights. Arthur would have to do something about this. At least the meeting didn't happen until past noon, so he still had a few hours. He thought of what Merlin would be doing. Let's see, the prince thought, what chores do I usually give Merlin? He ran through a list in his head:

Make my bed, dress me, fix me breakfast, wash my armor, polish it, do my laundry, scrub my floors, sharpen my sword, accompany me to battle training….

None of the tasks seemed possible for Arthur to do, either because he didn't want to do it or he hadn't the slightest clue how to perform it. Well, in order to pull off being Merlin for the day, he had to look the part. Arthur grabbed the basket of his dirty laundry (which was extremely heavy; Merlin must've skipped that chore) and ambled into the corridor, trying to look busy.

After a few minutes of aimlessly wandering, Arthur bumped into a handmaiden. "Oh, sorry—"

Gwen looked up at him with a smile on her face. Arthur nearly dropped his laundry. "Gwen, oh, uhm, hi," he managed to stutter.

Gwen giggled. "Hello, Merlin," she said, reminding Arthur of his lovely predicament. Her eyes glanced at the overflowing basket of clothes. "Would you like me to help you with that? We don't have to tell Arthur, it'll be our secret," she added with a mischievous smirk.

Arthur grinned back stupidly and nodded. "Uhm, sure…"

Gwen looked at him with kind eyes. "Well, come on, then. I had to do Lady Morgana's laundry today, too, so we can share the washroom."

Arthur followed the handmaiden through the hallways and into the washroom. He'd never seen the washroom before. Actually, he hadn't even known they had a washroom. Arthur didn't get mixed up with any servants besides Merlin and Gwen.

"So, Merlin," began Gwen as she dumped water into the wash basin, "What line of chores has Arthur set up for you today? Nothing too bad, I hope?"

Arthur lifted an eyebrow. "You know," he answered, "I—uhm, Arthur isn't that bad. He's actually a very grateful person."

Gwen looked at Arthur, surprised. "No need to get defensive."

"I'm not defensive, who says I'm getting defensive?" Arthur replied. "I'm just saying that Arthur isn't all that mean. He cuts me some slack. Sometimes…"

The handmaiden giggled. "I was just joking about the chores. It's not in my place to insult Arthur's instruction. And I'm sure he's a good person." She paused, her expression going soft, and her deep brown eyes sparkling. "I know he's a good person…"

Arthur didn't know how to respond to Gwen, who was staring off at nothing. "Uhm… Gwen? Are you okay?"

Gwen blinked and then smiled a bit. "What? Oh, I'm fine, Merlin. I was just think about…" her voice trailed off as she started to wash one of Morgana's dresses.

Arthur tried to mimic the maid's washing techniques with his own laundry as best as he could, but he was convinced he looked like and absolute idiot. If he did, Gwen didn't mention anything. She was unusually quiet while she continued with her laundry, as if she was deep in thought. Arthur didn't talk much either, he just focused on acting like Merlin would.

…

Merlin found it very hard to walk in Arthur's body. The prince was built _way_ different than he was. For one thing, Arthur had muscle. Going from scrawny peasant to buff prince overnight was a bit of a challenge for the young warlock. Also, Merlin had to strut like Arthur did, and try not to slump over so much. When you're in the body of the crown prince of Camelot, you have to at least try not to look like you just drank three quarts of mead.

Merlin opened the door to Gaius' quarters, surprising the old Physician.

"Sire," Gaius greeted, stepping into a deep bow, "How may I be of service?"

Merlin peeked out into the hallway and then shut the door. "Gaius," he began, "It's me, Merlin."

The Physician furrowed his brow. "Are you okay, Arthur?"

Merlin shook his head in frustration and took hold of Gaius' shoulders. "Gaius," the warlock said, almost frantically, "You have to believe me. I'm Merlin. Look into my eyes!"

The Physician obliged, still not looking convinced. However, after a moment, it clicked. "You _are_ Merlin!" He grimaced. "What did you do this time?"

Merlin let out a sigh of relief. "I dunno," he replied. "I just woke up this morning and I was in Arthur's body."

"And is Arthur…?" Gaius began.

"In my body? Yes," Merlin answered.

Gaius rolled his eyes. "We're going to have to do something about this…"


	3. Jumping Jacks

It was half past noon, and Merlin was now faced with the daunting task of directing the knights of Camelot in a training session. To add on to this, the damn King was attending to check up on the their progress! Merlin stood awkwardly as the group of armored men stared at him expectantly. That was another thing; having to wear armor. Being in Arthur's body, the weight of the metal wasn't that bad, but it was horribly uncomfortable. Merlin wondered how they were supposed to fight like this.

"So," Merlin began, trying to sound like Arthur. It wasn't working. "Uhm, let's warm up a bit to, uh, get our muscles ready."

The knights threw sideways glances at each other.

"Uh, let's start with…" Merlin strained his mind for an idea. "Jumping jacks."

One of the knights furrowed their brow. "Jumping jacks, Sire?"

Merlin nodded once. "Yes, jumping jacks. Each of you do thirty."

After a moment of silent confusion, the group obliged. Not at all together, the courtyard was full of voices shouting numbers and the loud clanking of armor as a few knights toppled into one another. King Uther watched silently, his tense face not betraying any emotion. Merlin's thoughts raced in effort for another idea as the group finished their jumping jacks.

"Alright, good," he said. "Now, erm, do thirty, uh, sit-ups."

The knights whispered suspiciously among each other, but, again, did what Merlin told them. He liked having the feeling of complete superiority; he could tell them to do the Chicken Dance and they'd have to listen to him.

The sight of the Camelot knights trying to do sit ups in a full suit of armor was surprisingly amusing. The metal was quite heavy to begin with, and it didn't bend properly in the middle, so doing a sit up was very difficult.

King Uther's face was still tense, and his penetrating eyes showed only a slight curiosity, possibly annoyance. Merlin really hoped it wasn't anger. The thought of getting scolded by King Uther as if he was his son was terrifying. He'd actually had nightmares about the King, but he wouldn't admit it to anyone…

…

Arthur hurried outside on his way to the training courtyard, finding it awkward running in Merlin's form. He had to check on the meeting with the knights. If Merlin had screwed it up… Arthur didn't even want to think about that. Even though he didn't exactly treat Merlin nicely, he hoped that the King would take it easy on the young servant.

As the prince neared the courtyard, he could already tell something was wrong. The knights were on the ground, attempting to do push-ups. Arthur smacked his forehead with his palm. What was Merlin thinking? He jogged over to the group, surprised that he was already panting after going such a short distance.

"Ahem, Merl—uh, Sire," Arthur said, still not used to talking to what appeared to be himself. "Could I suggest something?"

Merlin looked at him and relaxed considerably, looking relieved. "By all means, Merlin," he replied, nodding.

Arthur lowered his voice. "What the hell are you thinking? Push-ups?"

Merlin looked sheepish. "It's better than jumping jacks…"

"Jumping jacks?" Arthur took a deep breath. He'd yell at him later, when he had his body back. "My God, _Mer_lin, I'd thought you'd actually learn a thing or two about knight training after watching so many sessions…"

Merlin shrugged. "Sorry…"

"Look, just tell them to break up into their assigned groups and go through the forms they've been working on. Alright?"

Nodding, Merlin turned back into the group and did what Arthur said. The knights dispersed immediately, seeming eager to get away from who they thought was the Prince. Merlin let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you…"

"Whatever," Arthur scoffed. "If you weren't such a bloody idiot…." His words trailed off, not giving Merlin the grace of hearing Prince Arthur's next insult.


	4. How It All Started

"_Damn it, Merlin," complained Arthur, "Can't you walk any faster? At this rate, we won't reach the marketplace until tomorrow evening!"_

_Merlin bit back a retort and shuffled on as quickly as he could while trying to keep the assortment of armor he was carrying from dragging on the ground. "Why couldn't I have put this stuff in a wagon, or a wheelbarrow?"_

"_Stop talking, and keep walking! Obviously, you can't do both at the same time."_

"_But if I had a wagon, we would have already reached the marketplace by now…"_

_Arthur exhaled impatiently and muttered an anatomically unlikely suggestion for what Merlin should do with the armor. _If only he would just shut up and walk_, he thought with an annoyed expression_, it can't be that hard_._

_The hustle and bustle of the marketplace alerted Merlin, who was shambling along staring at his feet, that they had arrived at long last. _Finally_, he thought. Carrying all of this armor was exhausting._

_As they approached the blacksmith's tent, Arthur became aware of a presence at his right. Turning, his face was inches from that of an old woman. Startled, he stumbled back a bit, nearly falling over._

"_Have you any coin to spare for a poor old woman?" The woman inquired hopefully._

"_Uh," Arthur stuttered, "Sorry, I don't." Of course he did. But why waste money on someone as pitiful as this creepy hag…? Doesn't she know who he is?_

_The woman's expression dimmed. "Oh, that's a shame… I've worked all day, and I don't get paid. I was hoping to have dinner tonight."_

_Merlin set Arthur's armor down and dug around in his pocket. He withdrew a small coin and handed it to the woman. "Here, you can have this."_

_The woman's eyes widened. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, dearie!" She bowed awkwardly, leaning forward slightly and revealing her hunched back._

_Arthur furrowed his brow in bewilderment. "Merlin, you're just as poor as she is. Why would you waste your money on her?"_

_Merlin refrained from rolling his eyes at Arthur's complete lack of moral. "Well, she works just as much as I do, I bet, and she deserves a little reward for that, especially if she's that old." He looked at the woman. "Er, no offense."_

_The woman smiled, showing her few remaining yellow and brown teeth. Arthur cringed._

"_Honestly, _Mer_lin! That's absolutely absurd! You work all day for me and never ask for a penny!"_

"_That," Merlin replied, "is because I can't exactly demand payment from the crown Prince of Camelot. This woman deserves payment, in my opinion."_

"_Well, I think it's stupid. A little manual labor can't be that hard. Why should someone expect to be paid for doing a bit of laundry, or moving a few boxes around, or pulling up some plants from a field?"_

_Merlin set his jaw in annoyance. He knew it wasn't his place to argue with Arthur, but he couldn't stop himself. "You wouldn't last one day as a servant! You think it's so easy, why don't you give it a go?"_

_Arthur raised his eyebrows and scoffed. "Me? A servant? Please! Do you think being a Prince is easy? You wouldn't last one hour as a Prince!"_

_A muscle in Merlin's jaw twinged. "Oh, is that so?"_

"_Yes, it is so!"_

_The old woman, who had been observing calmly, intervened. "Boys, boys. Let's not fight. It seems the both of you need to learn an important lesson."_

_Arthur glared at her. "And I suppose you think you can teach it to us?"_

"_Well, I—"_

"_As the Prince of Camelot, I am ordering you to leave us alone this instant!"_

_Merlin thought he saw something glimmer in the old woman's eyes in that moment, but he tossed the thought and decided he was imagining things. The woman stared at Arthur for a moment, and then bowed her head respectfully. "Yes… Of course, your Highness…."_

_Merlin turned to Arthur. "You didn't have to be so harsh to her. She's an old woman, for Lord's sake…." Merlin turned around to apologize to the woman for Arthur's behavior._

"_Miss, I'm so—" He stopped short._

_The woman had vanished._


	5. Symbolism

"Alright," proclaimed Arthur, "This is becoming ridiculous. I can't take this. These trousers keep riding up and this tunic itches more than a poison ivy sting…."

"You're one to talk," replied Merlin, "You're the lucky one here. You are stuck in my body. I'm nothing but a worthless servant. I have absolutely no status. I, on the other hand, am stuck in the body of the Prince of Camelot. If I do something stupid—"

"Which happens all the time," intervened Arthur, receiving a sharp glare from Merlin.

"— Everyone will notice it. And don't act so smug, because if I look like an idiot, you look like an idiot!"

Arthur blinked, this fact dawning on him. "You're right…"

Merlin sat down in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He had been stuck in Arthur's body for a little over six hours. He had to admit, being buff, handsome and respected was quite nice. However, like he mentioned before, it was very hard to keep composure of his princely stature when he was so used to moping around. This was especially true around the King, who frightened Merlin even from a far distance. Having to act like his son was nerve-wracking.

Arthur glanced around the physician's chambers, eyes resting on the old physician himself. He was sitting at the table, hunched over a large book with a cracked leather cover. His eyes scanned the pages quickly but intently. _What's taking him so long?_ Having been informed of the issue, Gaius agreed to help Arthur and Merlin with their little predicament. Arthur hadn't expected this to take so long.

Gaius sighed and closed the book, adding it to the pile of books he had already gone through.

"Well?" Arthur inquired urgently.

Gaius shook his head, his expression solemn. "I apologize. None of the references in my books give any clue to a practical explanation or solution."

Merlin's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "We can't stay like this forever! Eventually, someone will find out something is wrong, or one of us will slip up, or—"

"Merlin," interrupted Gaius calmly, "relax. This is no time to panic."

Arthur jumped up from his seat. "This is the perfect time to panic! The crown Prince of Camelot is currently a servant who possesses no knowledge whatsoever of how to be a person of noble blood, and has absolutely no clue about how to rule Camelot properly!"

Gaius sighed. "I'm sorry, Sire. I will try to understand your urgency. However, focusing on the disadvantages of this situation will get us nowhere."

"Then what do you expect us to do?" A muscle in Arthur's jaw twinged impatiently with anxiety.

Gaius thought for a moment. "That old woman you told me about… did she have any strange markings? Odd looking jewelry?"

Arthur shook his head. "No."

"Wait," Merlin said, closing his eyes to remember. "I do remember something."

Concentrating, Merlin wracked his brain. "She had a marking. On her neck."

Gaius furrowed his brow. "What did it look like? What it an animal? Or a word?"

"No… It was a symbol of some sort. It looked like a lower-case 'm,' except the last leg of the letter extended down a bit and then curled upwards, making an odd zig-zag shape."

Gaius nodded thoughtfully. He stood and retrieved another book from his shelf and started flipping through the pages. Arthur was looked at Merlin with a bewildered expression.

Merlin blinked. "… what?"

"Honestly, how do you remember that much detail?"

Merlin shrugged, smirking sheepishly.

"Aha!" exclaimed Gaius, drawing the attention of the two men. He walked over and set the book on the table, laying it open. On the page was a table of odd-looking symbols and words. "Is this the symbol the marking depicted?" He pointed to one of the symbols on the page.

Merlin leaned in to get a better look. His eyes widened. "Yes, that's it!"

"Interesting…"

Arthur craned his neck to see. "What? What is it?"

Gaius motioned to the page. "This is a table of runes. It is known as Theban script, or the Witch's alphabet. Witches use these letters to write out spells or incantations. They also use it to carve their Craft name into ritual tools or elements."

"So," Merlin began, "what does this tell us about the woman's marking?"

Gaius traced a finger along a paragraph of words. "Sometimes witches mark themselves with certain letters to give themselves power in a certain area of magic. The symbol you described is represents the letter 'z'. It might stand for an initial or an element of a spell."

Merlin and the physician exchanged nervous glances.

Arthur's expression was tense. "Gaius, are you saying…..?"

Gaius nodded seriously. "Yes. That woman is a witch."


	6. The Plan

Arthur's eyes widened at the word. "A _witch!_"

Merlin flinched very slightly at the harshness in his voice. No other than the Prince could put so much hate and scorn into a single word such as that.

"A witch!" Arthur repeated, furious, "I'll track the damned hag down and see that she's hanged! The bloody guttersnipe! She has the audacity to meddle in the affairs of the crown Prince of Camelot? Oh, she will regret the day she was born! Damn witches, always causing trouble! The whole lot of them deserve to be hanged!"

Merlin exchanged a glance with Gaius for no more than a second. He could understand Arthur's hatred for the magical kind, but he wished he could confide in him the truth about himself. His thoughts wandered. What he and Arthur had wouldn't really qualify as a friendship… but there was more than just a simple relationship between a servant as his master. Merlin wondered if that would change if somehow the Prince found out about him being a warlock. Though the relentless and insensitive antics of Arthur annoyed and angered Merlin to the edge of his sanity on a daily basis, he couldn't help but think about what his life would be like if he wasn't his servant…

"_Mer_lin! Are you listening to a _word_ I am saying?"

Merlin was jolted out of his deep thoughts and looked at Arthur. Seeing his own face so contorted with anger was an odd sight indeed: His cheeks were flushed, jaw set furiously, a vein pronounced slightly above his left eyebrow.

"Sorry?" Merlin offered a meager response.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Lord, Merlin… I _said_ we should put together a search party to find that damn witch!"

"Oh, uhm, right!" Merlin agreed.

"My lord," said Gaius, "if I may ask… What would we tell the search party, regarding to the reason they are searching for the witch? Surely you don't intend to tell them about your current circumstances….?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed, as if the old physician had asked a daft question. "Of course not! And they don't need a reason to search and capture a witch. The fact that she is a witch in the first place is reason enough!"

Gaius bowed his head respectfully.

"Er…" Merlin began, but hesitated.

Arthur caught the utterance and looked at him. "What?"

Merlin shuffled his feet in discomfort. "Well… since I'm in your body, I'm going to have to instruct the search party, right?"

"Yes, that is correct." Arthur stared at him for a moment. "… is there an issue, _Mer_lin?"

* * *

Merlin stood awkwardly in front of the attentive group of guards. "Uh…"

Arthur was standing off to the side, as Merlin would be, were they in their own bodies. He was fiddling anxiously with his fingers, as if wanting to take over and instruct the guards himself. Merlin gulped and went on.

"So… uh… there is a witch that has been discovered in Camelot, and… we need to find her and make sure that she is punished for her crimes."

The guards nodded in agreement, straightening a bit at the opportunity for an exciting mission. Encouraged slightly by their determination, Merlin continued.

"Your job is to find where she is and bring her to the castle immediately, so I can give her a piece of my mind." It felt odd speaking of another magic-user in such a manner. "She will be charged with treason against the crown Prince of Camelot."

"Bloody hag," muttered one of the guards grudgingly, grasping the grip of his sword.

Having given the guards their instructions, Merlin was at a loss for what he was supposed to do now. "So… er…. ehm…." Stricken with a sudden idea, he pulled his sword from its sheath and raised it into the air, an idiot crooked smile spreading across his lip. "Go, Camelot!"

The guards stared at him in awed confusion, some of them with their eyebrows raised. Arthur smacked his palm into his face, shaking his head hopelessly at the enthusiastic idiocy of his servant.

"This is going to be a long night…"


	7. All In Good Time

Arthur stared in awe at the enormous bustle of people that stood before him. How in the hell were they supposed to find one woman in this entire crowd?

"Coming, Arthur?" Merlin inquired lightheartedly as he started into the mass of people.

Arthur sighed and followed his servant, grumbling under his breath. Once he found that damn witch, she was going to be hanged faster before she could cast another spell on them. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, receiving quite a bit of rude looks and comments from citizens. However, the same citizens were taking their hats off and bowing to Merlin, the "Prince." Arthur set his jaw in annoyance. He couldn't wait to get his own body back.

...

Well after two hours of searching through the enormous and busy marketplace, Arthur was beginning to feel as if he'd just trained for three days straight. His stomach hungered, his throat was dry from the dust being kicked up by many hurried feet, and his legs ached from all of the walking.

"Merlin," he groaned, "Let us stop for a few minutes."

Merlin turned and looked at him, an amused smirk on his face. "Tired already? It's only been a couple hours."

"Shut up, _Mer_lin. In case you have forgotten, I am stuck in the pathetically dim-witted body of a servant who has absolutely no muscles, no endurance and," he paused, sniffing at his armpit and crinkling his nose in a look of disgust, "Apparently no personal hygiene, either!"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I bathe! ... occasionally!"

Arthur had a strong urge to kick Merlin in a certain area that would cause him much pain, but decided against doing so because he would indeed be kicking himself.

"Let's just find the damn hag and get this search over with," he muttered.

...

Finally, Arthur's prayers were answered. After yet another hour of searching, Merlin shouted, "There! There she is!"

He jabbed his finger at an old pub. Arthur followed his direction eagerly, albeit frantically. Sure enough, sitting at a table in front of a window to the pub, was the old witch herself.

"Don't just stand there," exclaimed Arthur, "Let's go!"

The two men hurried into the small building. They took a place on either side of the woman, blocking her escape routes. Not that an old fat woman like herself could move very quickly, but it was just a precaution.

"Ah," she crooned, recognizing them immediately, "Prince Arthur and his servant! What a pleasant surprise!"

She bowed her head to Merlin, casting a side glance at Arthur, who was fuming.

"Don't you _dare_ play those games with me," he spat angrily, "You're coming with us right now, _witch_!"

The old lady, to both Merlin and Arthur's surprise, giggled and smiled widely, revealing two rows of rotted and decaying teeth. "Oh, how delightful!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, grabbing her arm. He nodded at Merlin, who took hold of her other arm. They escorted her out of the pub and back to the castle. She was smiling widely and humming a cheerful tune the entire way.

_What is wrong with her?_ Arthur thought to himself as they entered Gaius' chambers. The physician looked over and blinked. "Sire...?"

"This is the witch," Merlin explained, "We finally found her in the marketplace."

Gaius' eyebrow rose. "Well, that is good news—"

"Yes, it is," Arthur intervened, "and I want her hanged immediately. She is charged with treason against the crown Prince of Camelot, and in turn against Camelot itself!"

"Sire," Gaius said gently, "I must inform you of something."

"What?" Arthur demanded impatiently.

"Well," Gaius began, "it is true that many enchantments can be lifted when the caster dies, but we aren't sure for this particular enchantment. I've never seen anything like this before. How can we be sure that if this woman dies, you and Merlin will return to your own bodies?"

Arthur was silent. He looked from Gaius to the witch. Would he spare the life of a filthy witch who deserved death? His glance shifted to Merlin. Or, would he kill the witch and risk spending the rest of his years in the frail and wimpy body of his own servant, while Merlin carried on in his own role, as the future King of Camelot?

"Fine," he stated firmly. He looked at the witch. "Now change us back."

The woman giggled. "Oh, but Prince Arthur, you and Merlin haven't learned your lesson yet!"

Arthur's eyes narrowed in frustration, and for a moment the idea of torturing the old hag crossed his mind. "Change. Us. Back. NOW." He hissed the words through clenched teeth.

The woman stared at him for a moment. Then a wide, rotten smile spread across her cracked lips.

"All in good time, Sire," she said cheerfully, "all in good time."


	8. Oops

The clock sounded three great chimes, ringing out into the darkness, marking three hours after midnight. The moonlight shone in gentle silver rays through the tiny window of the prison cell, illuminating the dark room just enough to make out the wrinkled face of the old witch. She sat on the rotting wooden bench in the corner of her cell, head bowed and eyes closed. One would think that she was asleep.

Merlin sat at the small table just outside the cell, leaning on the back to legs of his chair. The guards sitting on either side of him had fallen asleep around the first hour, and now were slumped in their chairs, snoring quietly. Merlin sighed. He couldn't blame them. Guarding a prisoner that doesn't move nor make any noise must be agonizingly boring.

Despite the tedious situation, Merlin hadn't been able to fall asleep. He was worried about this whole mess about switching bodies with Arthur. How were they going to get the old witch to cooperate with her? Would she change them back? Would they ever be changed back?

The thought of being Prince of Camelot for the rest of his life was horrifying. He couldn't stand being Arthur for one day, let alone for several years. If the King died, Arthur is supposed to take his place. There was absolutely no way that Merlin could rule a kingdom. And Arthur, he would just fade out of existence, known only as the gangly weak servant boy to the King.

What of Merlin's destiny? He had to help Arthur to his rightful place on the throne once King Uther passes. If they were stuck in each other's bodies for the rest of their lives, fulfilling Merlin's destiny was impossibility. What was he going to do?

Merlin rubbed his eyes. He glanced over at the witch. She hadn't moved since she was put in there. She hadn't spoken, either. This seemed a bit odd to the young warlock, considering how talkative and bubbly she was just a few hours ago. Even Gaius had been getting annoyed of her constant chatter and mindless singing. Merlin wondered if she might be dead. She was old enough; the possibility of her just keeling over wasn't very slim. The thought gave him a split second of wild hope. But, if she were dead, wouldn't this curse have lifted?

As if on cue, the old woman raised her head. A mischievous smirk spread across her dry, cracked lips. She didn't speak or make any other noise. Merlin looked over at her, his thoughts interrupted by the slight movement.

"You're awake," he said, surprise in his voice. "You haven't moved for so long, I was beginning to think you'd died or something…"

The witch rose to her feet, facing the door of the cell. She stood there for a moment, not saying a word. Then she held up her hands, palms facing Merlin. The warlock didn't have time to question her odd movements before he flew backward into the stone wall, the wind knocked from his lungs. Another gust of energy ripped the cell door from its hinges, Merlin narrowly dodging it before it crashed against the wall as well.

The guards jerked awake and drew their swords, getting into a disoriented defensive stance. The witch laughed and ran with shocking speed out of the cell, toward the stairs that led aboveground. The guards scrambled after her, yelling threats and curses.

Merlin gasped for breath and managed to get to his feet, just in time to duck as the guards flew over him, landing in a heap inside the cell. His mind raced as he tried to think of something to do. He couldn't let the witch get away. She may be his only chance of getting his own body back. On a whim, Merlin thrust his palm at the old woman, his eyes flashing a brilliant gold.

The witch tripped and fell to the ground, Merlin's magic paralyzing her body. He ran over to her, grabbing a length of rope off the wall. He bound her hands and feet together, and felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"S-s-sire," sputtered one of the guards, staring at Merlin with wide, terrified eyes.

Merlin furrowed his brow, and then realized what he had done. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he swore it skipped a bit. Horror seized him. He'd used magic in Arthur's body. And there were witnesses.


	9. Misunderstanding

_The old witch sat in her cell, content with the events of the previous evening. She rocked slightly in her seat, humming an old tune. A rotten smile spread across her lips. Her eyes shone with an unnatural light for a moment. "Gaius," she whispered, "Oh, Gaius. Be careful of what you say. Your warlock friend will never see again the light of day." The last word of the spell echoed off the stone walls of the dungeon, and the old witch cackled darkly. "The Prince and warlock must learn their lesson," she giggled._

Merlin was unconscious. His eyelids felt as if they were never going to open again. What happened? Why is he unconscious? He struggled to remember. After a moment of concentrating, he could recall. He'd been trying to stop the witch from escaping. She almost gotten away, but a bit of magic stopped her. The guards saw. A sharp blow to the temple, and he was out cold. He was now aware of the dull ache in his head, which slowly grew into a throbbing pain. Furrowing his brow in effort, he was able to force his eyelids to open.

He could already tell that he was still in Arthur's body. Through blurred vision, he tried to make out his surroundings. The floor beneath him was hard and rough, and there was little light in the room, save a couple small, barred windows. His hands were tightly bound behind him. He was still in the dungeons. But now, he was the prisoner.

Blinking a few times to clear his vision, Merlin raised his head a bit.

The guards that surrounded him were startled by this slight movement. They immediately held their crossbows at the ready, prepared to fire at any threat by Merlin.

"Uhnn…" was all the warlock could manage to say at the moment, but it earned a sharp retort from a guard.

"Quiet, you monster!"

Merlin fell silent, as he didn't very much desire to be pelted with crossbow bolts at the moment.

"You shouldn't speak to the Prince like that!" exclaimed another guard.

"That isn't the Prince," the first guard shot back. "That there is a being of magic, and it's stolen the form of the Prince."

"But—"

"Shut up, now, you're distracting me."

The guards were silent for a few minutes. Merlin wondered what was going to happen. Then he heard a familiar booming voice echoing through the dungeon corridors. King Uther.

"You mean to tell me that my son is of magic?" He demanded in a furious voice. "That is impossible!"

The King was soon at the door of Merlin's cell. He glared at the guards. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Don't you dare point your weapons at my son!"

Guards quickly withdrew their weapons and hung their heads, not daring to argue with the King himself.

"Where are the witnesses?" Uther demanded.

Two guards hesitantly made themselves known. "H-here, Sire."

Uther glared at them with a scrutinizing stare. "So, you believe my son to be of magic, do you?"

"W-well," one guard sputtered, "we did see him perform some sort of… thing that looked like magic."

"Is that so?" said the King, growing angrier by the second.

"Y-y-yes, Sir."

Uther was baffled and furious. Not a good combination. "Fetch me Gaius," he ordered one of the guards, who quickly obliged and hurried from the dungeons.

Merlin's eyes lit up with hope. Gaius knew their situation! He could help him get out of this sticky mess. His heart fluttered with relief. He would be let go, and he could go back to the witch and make her end this dreaded spell. Finally!

Gaius and the guard returned, standing at Uther's side. "Yes, your Highness?" the old physician asked.

"Examine my son," the King ordered, "I want you to prove to me that this is Arthur Pendragon or a magic being taking on his form. Now."

Gaius bowed his head in respect. He was let into the cell, and went over to kneel beside Merlin.

"Gaius," Merlin whispered, "They saw me using magic. You're going to help me get out of this, right?"

But the physician didn't reply, nor did he acknowledge the fact that Merlin had spoken at all. His eyes seemed dull and lifeless, as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

"Gaius?" Merlin tried. No reply. Not even a glance. What is going on?

The physician performed a series of physical tests on Merlin, and then stood when he was finished.

"Well?" Uther asked. "Is it Arthur, or a beastly creature of magic?"

"I am afraid it is a mixture of both, Sire," replied Gaius. "You see, the creature that harries the Prince is indeed one of magic, but it is a sort of parasite that uses the host's original body."

The King blinked and was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. "So what do we do?"

"Well," continued Gaius, "the only way to rid of this specific creature is to kill the host."

This caused uproar with the guards. Merlin's heart dropped, his stomach lurching.

"What?" The King exclaimed.

"Please, allow me to finish, Sire. When the host is killed, the creature then exits the body, but it uses so much energy to do so that the magic it leaves behind immediately repairs whatever wound had killed the host. The host, in this case, Arthur, will be good as new, without even a scar."

The King was obviously very hesitant about this. But, he trusted the old physician. Gaius had helped him through many a crisis in the past.

"It is the only safe way," added Gaius.

A long moment of silence passed before the King spoke again.

"Alright," he said. "Alert the executioner. Bring him in at dawn tomorrow." He glared at Merlin. "We are going to end this for you, monster. I will get my son back from your clutches."


	10. Know Who Your Friends Are

Merlin felt sick to his stomach. He was short of breath and lightheaded. _What have I done? _he thought, the question swirling around endlessly in his mind. There was nothing he could do, now. No amount of magic could get him out of this one. Before, it was different. If there were complications, he could usually figure it out by going down to the library and reading up on some unknown creature. A little magic would be used on occasion, to deliver the final blow. And always, Gaius was there to offer his wisdom.

Gaius.

Merlin's heart ached at the thought of the old physician. Why hadn't he helped Merlin when he had the chance? It didn't make any sense. He was supporting the execution of the supposed Prince of Camelot, even when he knew full well what soul was really occupying Arthur's form. That old witch must have worked some magic and cast a spell over the physician. That was the only plausible explanation. Unless this was part of some crazy plan Gaius put together, which was highly unlikely.

Merlin sighed quietly and leaned against the rough stone wall on the far side of his cell. Pale moonlight shone in blue-white rays on the straw that lay on the ground. He adjusted his position a little, but the shift provided no more comfort as the hard rock dug painfully into his back. He had only a couple hours before dawn. A couple hours before it was all over.

How was he going to get out of this one?

Arthur was panicking. His mind raced, his heart pounded. What the hell did Merlin do to get himself sentenced to death? Why did the King consent to this? What happens if Merlin dies in Arthur's body? Arthur didn't want to be stuck in Merlin's body for the rest of his life! And he sure as hell didn't want his own body being beheaded!

The Prince strode back and forth across the room, distraught. This was insane. This whole thing was insane. Ever since he woke up in this damn servant's lanky, muscle-lacking body, it was insane. And now, Merlin's going to die, and Arthur is going be a lowly manservant for the rest of his years. Perfect. Just perfect.

Arthur stopped pacing for a moment, and idea hitting him. What do you do during a battle? Find the leader. Kill the leader. Kill the old witch. He dived for his sword and grabbed the hilt, then hesitated. The woman was locked in a cell, and her screaming could alert guards, and he would be hauled off and brought to the same fate as Merlin. He had to go about this carefully. He went back to pacing.

Minute after minute went by, and no sensible thoughts came to him. An hour has gone by now, and still nothing. Arthur glanced out the window nervously, praying that the light of the dawn would not come. He was not going to let this happen. He couldn't. Besides, even though Merlin was a total idiot and clotpole, he was rather nice to have around. He kept amusing company. Suddenly, he stopped pacing again, a new thought finally revealing itself.

Poison! He could poison the witch and kill her that way! Yes, that would work perfectly! He could poison the tray of the measly food portions they provide the prisoners, and she would die. Arthur's moment of elation faded when he realized there were a few holes in his new plan. First, he had to get his hands on some poison. Second, the poison had to be strong and fast working, in order to kill the witch before dawn. Third, he would need someone to deliver the food, because there was absolutely no way the old witch would trust food given to her by the one she's trying to kill.

Gwen! Of course! He could get Gwen to deliver the food. Maybe she would know where to get a hold of some poison, too!

The prince bolted from his room and down the corridor leading to the Lady Morgana's chambers, hoping to find Gwen there. He rounded a corner, and _Wham!_ He found Gwen. Their collision caused both of them to tumble to the ground, Gwen letting out a noise of alarm.

"Oh, dear! I'm terribly sorry! Oh, it's you, Merlin," she said, recognizing Arthur. "Why are you up so late? And running through the hallways, at that."

On a normal basis, Arthur would've been struck dumb by the natural beauty of this cheerful maid, but right now, he was serious. "Gwen, I need your help with something."

Gwen furrowed her brow, sensing the seriousness of the situation. "What's wrong? How can I help?"

Arthur took a deep breath, and explained the situation to her. By the time he was finished, her jaw was practically touching the floor.

"So…you….you're Arthur….and….Merlin….he's…"

"Yes," Arthur confirmed. "Now, are you going to help or not? Because even in this form, I can still give you orders as the crown Prince of Camelot."

Gwen bit her lip and was silent for a moment, still trying to comprehend the situation. She nodded.

"Yes. I will help."


	11. Pick Your Poison

Arthur and Gwen had agreed that Gaius' chambers were the best source for a good poison. So, they'd made the short trek to the old physicians room, and now stood in front of the daunting shelf of various mixtures and concoctions.

"So…" Arthur began, "which one of these is a poison?"

"How am I supposed to know?" exclaimed Gwen, "I've never assisted Gaius in poisoning something before!"

"At least one of these has to be one, don't you think? I mean, that seems logical to me. A physician should have remedies and poisons for various things, right?"

Gwen sighed. "I don't know, Arthur."

She stared up at Gaius' immense inventory of potions. If only the physician was here to help them. He would know right away. But Gaius was nowhere to be found, apparently. Most likely he had been summoned to the King's chambers, and they didn't dare interrupt the King.

"Maybe we should test one of them," suggested Gwen. "Choose one that looks poisonous."

After a moment of thinking, Arthur chose a small corked vial with a metallic purple liquid. "This one looks deadly," he remarked with confidence. Then he furrowed his brow. "Wait a minute, who are we going to test this on?"

Gwen bit her lip in thought, a quirk that Arthur found rather cute. She looked pretty when she was baffled. He was snapped out of his daydream by a sharp comment from the maid.

"Arthur, stop staring at me and go get that rat!"

"Rat?" he asked, confused.

Gwen sighed and pointed. "The rat over there in that cage. There are three of them. Gaius probably uses them to test out remedies he makes. We could test the poison on them."

"O-oh," stammered Arthur, "right, of course. Exactly what I was thinking."

Though she tried to hide it, the Prince caught the slight eye-roll Gwen did. He went over to the cage and lifted up the lid. Hesitantly he picked up a plump rat by its middle, which caused it to squeak and squirm around in the process.

"Oh, dear Lord," he mumbled with a disgusted grimace. "These rodents are vile. I swear, if it bites me…"

"Just bring it over here and try to keep it still," Gwen ordered, and Arthur obliged.

"I'm surprised that you keep ordering me around like this," commented Arthur as he held the rat down. "You're really worried about Merlin, aren't you?"

Gwen poured a spoonful of the purple liquid. "Well, yes, but…"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"Of course I don't want you to die, either!" the maid blurted. She blinked, and blushed.

Arthur couldn't help but smile a bit. "Well, I appreciate that."

Gwen nodded a little and eased the liquid into the rat's mouth with some effort. She and Arthur watched eagerly, waiting for the potion to take effect. After a moment, the rat squirmed and went still. Hesitantly, Arthur took his hands away. The rat didn't move.

"It's… dead," said Gwen. She smiled. "We found a poison on the first try!"

Unfortunately, the maid spoke too soon. The rat twitched, and soon began swelling, growing bigger and bigger in size. It was now four times the size as it was before. Its eyes opened and locked on Gwen. With a deformed squeak/growl, it launched itself at her, the maid shouting in alarm. Arthur jumped in front of her and the rat collided with him square in the chest. He grabbed it and wrapped his arm around its throat, and in a few moments it was dead for real.

Gwen stood wide-eyed, staring at the mutated creature. "A-arthur…" she said quietly. "You… you took a giant rat for me."

Arthur looked from the rat to her. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I? That would be a harsh way to go, don't you think? Mauled by a mutated rat."

"Er, I suppose, yes. Uhm… Thank you." Gwen was a bit baffled by the situation.

Arthur smiled. In a prince-like fashion, he took her hand and bowed, lightly kissing her soft skin. "Of course, my Lady."

This caused Gwen to blush fiercely. "Er…"

Arthur straightened up. "Let's find that poison, shall we?"

Gwen agreed, and they tested a different draft. This one only succeeded in turning the rat a bright shade of pink.

"There's only one rat left," Gwen observed, biting her lip. "If we don't succeed with this one…" Her sentence trailed off.

Arthur stared at the shelf, perplexed. He moved a row of vials aside, searching. In the very back of the shelf was a tiny vial. He furrowed his brow curiously and grabbed it, holding it gingerly in his hands. The vial was so small; it felt as if handling it too roughly would crush it.

"What's that one?" inquired Gwen, moving closer to see.

"I… don't know," Arthur replied, staring at the vial.

There were odd letters carved into it, looking like the runes from the script Gaius had shown him and Merlin. The liquid itself was menacing enough; it was black as ink, but shone with an eerie shimmer when the light hit it right. Arthur looked at Gwen. "Shall we?" The maid nodded in response.

"Let's test it like we would be giving it to the witch," she suggested, taking a small piece of bread from the table and breaking off a bit.

Arthur dabbed a couple drops of the liquid onto the bread, and Gwen gave it to the last rat. It nibbled it eagerly, quickly consuming it. The duo waited. A minute passed. Then two. Then three. They were soon about to give up hope when suddenly, the rat gave a squeak of alarm. It started convulsing; twitching at first, then violently. They watched in shock as the rat writhed, and then suddenly went still.

"Is it…" Gwen started to ask.

Arthur waited a moment before reaching into the cage and picking up the rat. "It's dead," he confirmed.

He turned the small vial over in his hands. "This is it," he said. "There isn't much in here. We only have one chance at this."

Gwen nodded. "I'll take it with me to the kitchen and put it in the bread. Maybe a little in the water, too, if it doesn't dye it black. Just in case she eats either one first."

"Good idea," the Prince replied. "Be careful not to waste a drop," he added.

Gwen nodded again and turned to leave. She hesitated, and then turned back to Arthur. Quickly, she leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Wish me luck," she said softly with a smile. And then she was gone.


	12. The End?

Gwen stood outside the doors that led down into the dungeon. She could feel the cold air billowing up from the dark place, sending goosebumps all over her skin. Taking a deep breath, the maid began to descend the stairs, holding the tray of food just like she would as if she was delivering rations to any normal prisoner. About halfway down the stairs, a voice stopped her.

"Guinevere," the old physician spoke from behind her, standing a few steps behind her.

Gwen jumped, not having heard Gaius. "H-hello, Gaius," she replied politely, keeping her voice level.

"What are you doing with that food?" His glazed-over eyes glanced at the tray she held in her hands.

"This is for the prisoner," she explained, turning so the food was less visible. "I'm delivering her rations."

Gaius took a step forward. "How thoughtful of you, but that won't be necessary. She's already received her rations for tonight."

"A little more food won't hurt," the maid was growing cautious and took a step backward. Gaius didn't seem himself at all. What was wrong?

"You don't want to go breaking the rules, Gwen," said the physician in a warning tone, "There are consequences for that. You don't want to end up like that witch down there, do you?"

"W-well, no, but—"

"I'll take that tray for you, and you go on back to your duties, alright? Just give it here," he reached for the tray.

Gwen jerked away, and Gaius grabbed her arm roughly. "Give it to me!"

She squealed in alarm as he lunged for the food. He was old, and she had enough strength to move so suddenly that his grip was broken, and his balance was lost. With a shout, he tripped over his robes and took a tumble down the stairs, motionless at the bottom.

Gwen gasped and rushed down to stand beside him. "Gaius? Gaius!"

The old man didn't respond, but he was breathing. Unconscious. Gwen had no idea what just happened, but assumed that it had something to do with the witch, and that served as a reminder to what her current task was. The maid hurried down the long hallway of cells, searching for the one that held the old woman. The sound of talking made her pause and slow her pace, trying to look natural.

A group of guards marched down the hall. In the center of the group was Prince Arthur, er, Merlin, Gwen reminded herself. He looked horribly distraught. Well, of course he did, he was being carried off to be executed. The sight made her heart pound.

As they passed, Merlin turned his head slightly to look at her. It was a desperate look, but his eyes weren't pleading for aid.

It was as if he was saying goodbye to her with a simple passing glance, on the way to his death.

X

The guards weren't at all graceful in escorting Merlin out of the castle. They didn't bother dragging him, but if he slowed his pace at all, he received a sharp jab in the back with one of the guard's weapons. His hands were bound behind him tightly; Even his mouth was gagged with a horrible smelling cloth. The news of the execution had already reached the people of Camelot. It appeared as if the entire city was crowded around the small executioner's block. Some of them cheered for justice, some shouted in protest. But no one dared to directly defy the order of their king, or they should meet the same fate as they believed their Prince would this day.

With a harsh shove, the guards hauled Merlin up to the executioner's block. A basket, as always, was set in front of it to catch the head of whoever was the unlucky soul to place his head down for the blade. This time, the unlucky soul was Merlin himself. He couldn't believe it. He was going to die.

The voice of a man beside him rang out as the warlock was forced to lay his head down onto the block. The man read from a scroll the charges that Arthur Pendragon was accused with. The reason why the Prince of Camelot was going to die today.

Merlin didn't even hear the words the man spoke. There was an unbearable ringing in his ears, and he closed his eyes, praying it wouldn't hurt for long.

The hooded executioner stepped up onto the block, gripping the rope that would release the blade of the dreaded guillotine.

_I'm sorry, Arthur._


End file.
